when the white snow melts
by garyprestons
Summary: Miranda and Gary's last Christmas at university before graduating. Studying, horror movies, and cold beds.


"What time is it?"

Gary's voice interrupted Miranda's train of thought, and she looked up from her notebook at him for a moment, blinking a few times to clear the cobwebs from her brain. Truth was, she had no idea what time it was or how much time had passed since they started their studying session after dinner. Dinner, of course, being take-out, because although Gary was a better cook than she, they'd been too busy to do much of anything other than study, revise, and work. It wasn't so bad going at it together, though.

She pulled her sleeve up to look at her watch. "Half past eight?! _Wow._ My brain feels like a marshmallow."

She heard his laughter from where he'd stretched out on the floor next to the bed, heavy textbook propped up against his bent knees, and pink highlighter staining his hands. "I'm calling it – attempt #3 at getting any real studying done, dead at 8:30 Saturday night."

"Thank god." She chucked her notebook out of the way and heard him do the same before he climbed onto the bed next to her, sighing heavily.

It was the week before winter break, and freedom was so close that they could both taste it. Papers were due, exams were to be written, and then a week of nothing but mince pies, turkey, and all the revelry that came with the season.

As Gary collected up the empty containers of food, Miranda gathered their books up and got off the bed to set them on his messy desk, inwardly rolling her eyes at how disorganized it was. The rest of his room in the flat he shared with two roommates was as neat as pin, but with all of the work that had piled up leading to the holiday, it was like a bomb had gone off.

Snow was starting to fall outside the window, and she knelt on the bed to watch it come down.

"It's snowing!" she sang, and Gary grinned. Her heart did a tiny somersault, as it often did when she caught herself focusing on just how cute he was. She was so lucky to have him as her best friend, but she couldn't deny that she wished they could be more. He was so sweet, and funny, with a sense of humour and he was really just as much of a fool as she was. Kindred spirits, she thought.

"So, despite our study session being a total failure, I think we deserve a reward," he suggested, and Miranda agreed with an enthusiastic nod.

"None of those cheesy Christmas specials, though," she groaned. Telly was absolutely dreadful this time of year. "And nothing romantic, because: yuck."

Gary went over to the bin of movies and pulled out one of their favourite horror movies, and Miranda clapped in approval.

"Right, you start rewinding and I'll go get us some snacks," Gary said, tossing her the case. She missed it, of course, and blushed when it fell on the floor and she went diving after it. He was already out the door when she fell off the bed in a tangle of limbs.

By the time he came back in with a bowl of crisps, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, remote control in hand, listening to the whir of the tape in the machine.

"Get the lights!" she said bravely, although she knew that like always, they'd end up with every light in the flat on in the end. They'd seen the same movie countless times before but they both turned into total children every time.

The room plunged into darkness, only the glow of the screen illuminating their shadows for a moment as they got comfortable on the bed, bowl of crisps sandwiched between them.

Before long, she was watching from between her fingers, the food forgotten.

"No, don't go upstairs!" Gary was saying to the doomed heroine on screen. "It's terrifying but it's also infuriating, isn't it?"

They both screamed at the same moment when the killer appeared, Gary grabbing her arm and squeezing for a moment, Miranda turning and hiding her face in his shoulder, giggling with terror and embarrassment.

"Why do we do this to ourselves?"

"I really don't know," he replied with a laugh, and then let go of her arm. "Scary part's over. You're safe." She reluctantly lifted her head from his shoulder, aware of how close they were sitting. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. Gary didn't notice, or if he did he didn't say anything, just reached for another handful of crisps, eyes on the telly.

She moved back to her spot on the bed and tried to concentrate on the movie and not how it felt every time Gary touched her arm or her hand when something scared them. At one point, they both screamed and grabbed hands at the same time.

Neither let go.

Maybe he just forgot he was holding it, or maybe he just wanted something to comfort him, but he held her hand for a good ten minutes. And maybe she imagined it, but she thought she felt his thumb absently rubbing hers at one point.

This was what it would be like to be his girlfriend, Miranda thought dreamily.

She was so lost in her little fantasy that she missed the whole climax of the movie, and it was Gary grabbing her and hugging her that pulled her out of it. Her squeal of (fake) terror was slightly delayed, but he didn't seem to care as he laughed into her shoulder.

"Every time."

"Every time," she repeated, shaking her head in amusement and affection.

He switched on the lamp next to the bed and they both relaxed as the room flooded with brightness.

It was still snowing outside, coming down heavier than it was before. Miranda stole another look at her watch – just past ten. Most of their friends were probably out partying, and she was studying and watching horror movies with her best friend. She wasn't jealous of them at all, really.

"So, you excited to go home and see your parents?" she asked him, and he sat down next to her.

"Yeah, should be great. Mum's still hoping I'll bring home a girlfriend." He laughed and shook his head. "I should just bring you to get her off my back."

"Oh, that wouldn't work," Miranda said, flustered. "I've met your mum before, and she knows you and I are just mates. Plus this," she gestured between them, "would never work. We're best friends! It's weird, it's... ick!"

A shadow of something flickered across his eyes for a moment, and she held her breath, waiting for what he'd say in response.

"Wow, cut me down quick there, huh?" he said with a grin, and just like that whatever it was he'd been thinking was gone, and the time-stopping moment of awkwardness was gone. "I think you'll find you couldn't do any better than me."

"You're absolutely full of it," Miranda fired back, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed and hitting him with it. "You'd have to pay me pretty well to get me to play the part of your girlfriend."

"And I'm just a poor, broke, uni student," Gary sighed, snatching the pillow from her grasp.

Miranda ducked as the pillow came flying at her; it fell onto the floor and she hit him in the arm again, this time with her hand. "Not for long, though. This time next year we'll be poor, broke, grad students."

The thought was scary. She honestly had no idea what she was going to do after graduation.

"This time next year, I hope I'm somewhere else. I'm thinking of going travelling, actually," Gary said. "Take off somewhere, just me, some friends, and go backpacking. I feel like after years of the same thing every day, I need an adventure. Maybe Thailand, or Malaysia..."

"You, Gary Preston, on an adventure?" Miranda snorted. "You're afraid of mice, and snakes, and bagpipes -"

"They're just so loud!"

"- and you want to end up in some weird, tropical jungle where the spiders are probably the size of your head?"

"Are you saying I've got a big head?"

"No!" The other pillow landed on her head, and she hurled it back at him. "You are such a child!"

"Then what does that make you?" Gary asked, still laughing, both of them out of breath.

"The idiot who got stuck with you," she replied. He threw the pillow to her and she caught it, holding it in her lap and hugging it to herself. "Are you really going to travel, though? So far away?"

Gary was quiet for a long moment. "I just feel like I could use some excitement, you know? Something different, something new. And maybe I'll find something I'm good while I'm there. I still haven't figured out what's next, after we graduate."

"Me neither!" she admitted, relieved he was going through the same struggles. "We graduate, and then what? Back to doing what we were at before, only this time we've got a diploma proving we're not complete failures."

"At least not at history," Gary corrected her. "We're still rubbish at pretty much everything else."

"Like maths," Miranda shuddered. She began to toy with the edge of the pillowcase, a bit sad. She had hoped that after graduation they'd stick together, muddle through the next phase of their lives side by side. He was her best friend and she wasn't sure what she'd do without him. But she didn't want to bring down the mood, and besides, it was months away. Maybe he'd change his mind. Maybe he'd realize that he actually fancied her, and they'd travel together...

"Miranda?"

She looked up from the pillow to find Gary watching her.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking how jealous I am. That you get to travel, I mean. You'll have to promise to send me postcards if you go!" she said quickly.

Gary looked confused. "No, I was saying that it's snowing pretty bad."

She looked out the window and saw that he was right; it was coming down in buckets, and the wind was blowing it in one direction. "Oh no..." She really didn't want to walk back to her building in the dark in a foot of snow. "So, d'you mind being a gentleman and walking me home?"

Gary nodded and then yawned, covering it with his arm. "Or you could just stay here tonight, and I'll walk you home in the morning when it's light out. You know, like sane people do."

Miranda knew arguing about the definition of insanity would be futile at this point, so she retrieved the pillows from the floor. "You just want me around in case you have nightmares tonight."

"Shut it," he laughed, going over to his dresser and tossing a t-shirt at her. "Sorry I don't have anything with cute animals printed on it."

She was about to reply with something equally clever and witty but he'd already left the room with his own pyjamas to go get changed, and she hurriedly shucked off her jeans and blouse before pulling on his t-shirt. It smelled like clean laundry, which was kind of comforting. Sliding under the covers, the sheets were cold and she shivered a bit, waiting for them to warm up from her body heat. It always took a ridiculous amount of time, especially in winter.

She was a bit surprised that she wasn't more nervous about what was actually happening. This wasn't even the first time she'd slept in his bed; one time, after a particularly rowdy New Years party, he'd insisted that she stay over and she'd obligingly passed out on his bed, still in her fancy dress and heels. She'd woken up the next morning shoe-less and tucked under the covers. Apparently he'd slept beside her but she had no recollection of it.

The door opened and Gary walked back in, changed into pyjamas and carrying a blanket. "Nicked it from Nick's room," he explained, then realized he'd made a joke and laughed at himself. "Right, anyway, we might need it. The heating in this place is shit."

He climbed into his side of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly with his weight as he did.

"Cold bed!" he yelped, and made a grab for the spare blanket, sitting up to smooth it over the both of them. It helped, but only a little.

"Nothing worse than a cold bed," Miranda agreed. "I mean, it's probably not so bad if you're moving around a fair bit." She realized what she'd just implied and cringed. Oh god.

"Like dancing?" Gary joked, and for a moment she thought she'd gotten away with it.

"Horizontal dancing," she suggested, and this time he actually did turn his head to look at her, agape. "Oh my god, I didn't mean-" she lowered her voice "- _sex._ I meant actual dancing. Like..."

He was already laughing at her, so she figured why not, and wriggled under the covers a bit, kicking her legs. Not caring that she probably looked like an idiot, she kept going because it was working, and after a moment Gary joined her, and suddenly she was giggling and she couldn't stop.

The bed sufficiently warm, they both stilled, and she could hear him breathing next to her.

"You're brilliant," he said, laughter still in his voice. "Mad, but brilliant."

"Taking that as a compliment, thank you very much to you," Miranda said, a hint of pride in her voice. "If you hog the covers, I will murder you in your sleep."

"A welcome death, especially if you snore."

"Shut it!" She reached over and punched him in the shoulder, but he caught her wrist before she could try and land a second blow.

"Oi, no fighting in bed!"

He was still holding her wrist, and when she looked at it he quickly let go.

"Fine. Truce, at least until tomorrow morning. Shall we say, ten?

"At least eleven. I'm not a morning person," Gary said with a yawn, and leaned over the side of the bed to turn off the light on his bedside table. "Night."

"Night." She rolled over onto her side, her back to him, and closed her eyes. She pulled the covers a little closer and exhaled, trying to calm down her racing heart and reach a level of calm that would eventually lead to sleep. But it was harder than she thought it would be, with not a lot of space between her body and his, and the room dark, and the air around them cool.

"Still cold?" His voice broke through the darkness, and she nodded before realizing he couldn't possibly see her do so.

"Bit chilly," she admitted. She felt the mattress shift again and assumed he had gotten up to go find her a jumper to wear, but instead the next thing she felt was his arm around her. Her eyes flew open in the dark, and she tried not to make a sound as he spooned up behind her, his chest warm against her back, his long legs in line with her own, and his arm wrapped right around her middle. She suddenly felt absolutely, positively, deliciously warm everywhere. She wasn't sure what to do, but she didn't even care. She could die in her sleep, just like this, and she'd be happy.

Her toes curled happily against the soft sheets, and she bit her lip to hold back a giggle.

"Better?" he asked, and oh god he was right there behind her, she could feel his breath against her hair, and she was terrified that if she answered yes, he'd let go of her.

"Mhm. Thanks." She could have kicked herself for such a stupid answer, but he didn't pull away, didn't laugh at her, didn't even reply. He just curled his hand around her a little more and sighed into her hair, and Miranda was grateful she wasn't standing up or she would have done a swoon. Instead she just sank further down into the soft comfy bed and his strong, manly chest, and closed her eyes.

When she next opened them, it was morning. His arm was still around her, but sometime during the night it had moved under the warmth of the duvet. As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she realized this was the most intimate situation she'd ever been in, and it was with her best friend. And it didn't feel awkward or weird at all. It felt right.

No part of her wanted to move from where she was, so she relaxed back in his arms, glancing at her watch. Just after ten.

Outside his bedroom window, the snow continued to fall.


End file.
